Sonnet on the Death of the Bavarian General Tilly

Tilly, thine hopes are fallen! by the stream
Of rapid Lech victorious cannons roar
With Swedish vengeance; on the adverse shore
Fraught with thy death the volleyed lightnings gleam!
Yet nor those hardy veterans, who seem
To mock all hinderancc ; nor those mouths, which pour
The thundering voice of war with fierce uproar;
Nor e'en Gustavus mars thy glorious dream.
But she, who met thee with her ghastly traia
Of murdered babes (a pale and vengeful ghost),
Sad Magdeburg, in Leipsic's dubious fight;
And with her heaven's red arm, which o'er the plain
Spread strange dismay: then victory fled thine host,
And thy bright glories sunk in fatal night.